


Christmas at Wayne Manor

by americaninja



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Mentions of other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 11:31:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13270542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/americaninja/pseuds/americaninja
Summary: Every Wayne family Christmas ends in disaster. This one is shaping up to be even more disastrous.





	Christmas at Wayne Manor

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self-indulgent, probably-not-canon-compliant thing I have ever written, so just be aware of that. But if you want something fun and happy, you've come to the right place.
> 
> Inspired by conversations with my friend Jack about Batman.
> 
> I know it's January, I know, but this has been bumping around in my head for months and it's only now that I've finally decided to actually write anything down. My neighbors still have their Christmas decorations up, so it's justified.
> 
> Sorry if some of the formatting is off, I had a lot of trouble with it.

            The phone rang.

            “ALFRED WOULD YOU GET THAT.” Bruce yelled from his study.

            Alfred propped the broom against the wall and picked up. “Hello? Ah, good evening, Master Kent. Yes. Delightful! Yes, Master Wayne would be thrilled. Would you? That’s very kind of you. Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow. Dinner is at 6 pm. Good night.”

            He smiled as he hung up, only for the smile to vanish. A stone-faced Bruce stood before him.

            “Was that Clark.” Technically it was a question, but it had the dullness of someone who knew full well what the answer was and didn’t want to hear the inevitable.

            “Yes. You see, Master Wayne, I — well, I took the liberty of inviting the Kent family over for our Christmas dinner last week, and they’ve accepted.”

            “WHAT?” Bruce blurted. “But I — I mean, yeah, I _mentioned_ it, but — I wasn’t seriously —” He buried his face in his hands. “This is going to be a disaster.”

            “No more a disaster than every dinner before it, I’m sure. It will be fine. You know them well enough to say that,” Alfred said.

            “...yeah.” Bruce looked at the clock. 10:00 pm. “I’m suddenly very tired, Alfred. I’m going to find Damian and go to bed. See you tomorrow.”

            “Good night, Master Wayne.” Alfred turned and headed down the hall, his smile returning.

\---

            Bruce was sweeping the house in search of Damian when he collided with Dick.

“Oh! Hey, Bruce.” he said, grinning. “You need something?”

            “Where’s Damian?” Bruce grumbled.

            Dick pulled a fifty dollar bill from his jacket pocket and lazily fanned his face with it. “I dunno… maybe you could… jog my memory…”

            Bruce glared at him before pulling a 100 dollar bill from his pants pocket and sticking it out.

            “Ha! Just kidding. Keep it. He’s in the Batcave. But I wouldn’t go in there. He’s working on something. It’s a surprise.”

            Bruce sighed. “Fine. I’m going to bed. Make sure he gets to bed as soon as possible, okay?”

            “Got it. See you tomorrow, Dad.” Dick vaguely saluted. Bruce smirked and walked away.

            Dick went down to the Batcave and saw Damian surrounded by paints, sticking his tongue out as he scrutinized the picture before him. “Dad’s gone to bed, so hurry it up.” he said.

            “Almost done!” Damian snapped. He leaned in closer, then added a few brushstrokes here and there. “Okay, I think that’s good. Now it just has to dry.”

            Dick headed down the steps and looked at it. “Wow. That’s… that’s incredible! Here, let me take it to my room. I’ll wrap it in the morning.”

            “Thanks,” Damian said, yawning.

            They went up the stairs, Dick lugging the painting behind him. He saw Damian to bed before hanging the (still rather smelly and wet) painting on his own bathroom wall, closing the door, and going to sleep.

\---

            The next morning, Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Damian sat around the brightly lit Christmas tree, surrounded by shredded wrapping paper. Bruce reached out and grabbed a large, square present, the last one under the tree. The tag said ‘To: Father. From: Damian.’

            “What’s this?” Bruce said, unwrapping it.

            “CAREFUL!” Damian and Dick yelled, a little louder than intended.

Bruce blinked in surprise before resuming his unwrapping, more cautiously this time. When it was unwrapped completely, he gasped. A hush fell over the four men as they looked at the painting. It was a family portrait — a very large one at that, featuring not only Bruce, Damian, Alfred, and Dick, but Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Cassandra...

            “Do… do you like it, Father?” Damian murmured, breaking the awkward silence.

            Bruce suddenly lifted his head and hastily wiped at his eyes. “Like it? I love it, Damian. I… I can’t believe you made this. No, that’s not true. I can. It’s amazingly well done, I just…” He gave Damian a hug. “Thank you.”

            Damian stiffened for a moment before leaning into the hug, a smile hidden against his father’s chest.

            They pulled apart to see Alfred and Dick beaming. Bruce grinned. “Alfred, would you please take this and see if we have a frame that will fit it? If not, I’ll get one tomorrow and we’ll find a place to hang it.”

            “Of course, Master Wayne,” Alfred said. He stood, carefully took the painting, and left the room.

            Bruce stood and clapped his hands. “And now, it’s time to get ready for the dinner.”

\---

            **3:45 pm.**

Dick’s phone vibrated. He pressed the home button and saw a text.

            **Jason: Will probably be late. On the job.**

Dick sighed and went to find Bruce. As he walked, he received another text.

            **Ivy: Dinner’s at 6, right? Harley and I will be there.**

He had totally forgotten about that.

            He found Bruce in one of the sitting rooms. “Ah, hey, Dad. Uhh, so Jason might be late. He’s busy.”

            “That’s okay,” Bruce said, not looking up from his new book.

            “And, uhh… well…”

            Damian passed by the sitting room just as Bruce yelled “YOU INVITED _WHOM_ TO OUR DINNER?”

            “GOD, DAD, HOW COULD I HELP IT? IT JUST SLIPPED OUT! THEY WERE _WINDOW SHOPPING_ , FOR GOD’S SAKE! THEY’LL BE FINE, I’LL MAKE SURE OF IT!”

            “DICK, YOU INVITED _HARLEY QUINN_ AND _POISON IVY_ TO MY DINNER WHEN YOU KNOW FULL WELL HOW DISASTROUS THESE DINNERS ARE.”

            “NO MORE A DISASTER THAN ANY DINNER BEFORE IT! C’MON, DAD.”

            Bruce stormed out, throwing one last “FINE! SEE IF I CARE!” back behind him and unknowingly passing Damian, who was crying with laughter.

\---

**4:30 pm.**

           The doorbell rang. Dick scrambled to answer it. He opened it to find Tim, Cassandra, Stephanie, Kate, and Maggie. Tim and Kate were holding presents.

           “Hey guys! Merry Christmas!”

           “Merry Christmas!” they chorused, smiling.

           As they entered, Damian yelled “TIMOTHY!” from the second floor inner balcony and leapt down at him.

           Tim dodged the other boy. “Whoa there, buddy! Watch the presents.”

           “I’ll take those,” Dick said, taking the presents from Tim and Kate. The others dispersed to talk and look around.

           “Tim, look at what I got!” Damian said, dragging his brother off to parts unknown.

\---

            **5:00 pm.**

            The doorbell rang. This time, Tim answered it to find Barbara and Jim Gordon. There were presents in Barb’s lap.

            “Merry Christmas!” all three said at once.

            Tim let them in and took the presents to the rapidly growing new pile under the tree. Kate waved to Barb, who waved back and yelled “Hey Kate! What’s up?” as she pushed off as quickly as she could. Gordon smiled and went to look for Bruce.

\---

            **5:30 pm.**

            Bruce, breathing heavily from running from four Robins at once who were all trying to ask him something, yanked the door open to see — oh, _dammit_.

            Clark beamed at him. There were presents under one arm; his other arm was around Lois’s shoulder. Lois held a large plate. Jonathan gasped at the sight of the decked out foyer. “Merry Christmas, Bruce!” Clark said.

            Bruce straightened up and brushed his hair back. “Yeah, uh, Merry Christmas. Come in. DAMIAN!” he roared as he turned his head back. “JONATHAN IS HERE!”

            “WHAT?” Damian shrieked back as Stephanie chased him down the front stairs with a plastic baseball bat. He dropped his own bat and stopped dead in his tracks, causing Stephanie to crash into him.

Jonathan grinned. “Are you okay?” he said as he hurried towards them.

            “Where’s the kitchen? I’ll take this in,” Lois said, holding up her plate.

            “That won’t be necessary,” Bruce said as he took it from her. “You guys, uh, have fun.” He bolted for the kitchen.

            ---

            **5:40 pm.**

Cassandra opened the door, saw Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy, gasped, and slammed the door.

Dick walked in. “Who is it?”

            “Uh… why are two criminals outside our door?” Cass mumbled.

            “Oh, right! I’ll handle this,” Dick said. He opened the door as Cass hurried away. “Sorry about that! Merry Christmas, you two!”

            Ivy smiled and hefted the presents she held. “That’s quite alright. May we come in?”

            Dick nodded and opened the door wider. As she entered, Harley gently swatted at Dick’s hair. “Thanks for inviting us, sugar. Means a lot.”

            Dick grinned, then remembered something.

            “ACTUALLY YOU TWO STAY RIGHT THERE I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.” With that, he ran off to warn the others to kindly _not_ kill the two women he had just let in.

\---

**6:00 pm.**

            The large dining room table was laid out with a feast of epic proportions.

            “I’m not much for speeches,” Bruce said (as multiple people rolled their eyes), “so dig in!”

            Despite everyone who was sitting there, the dinner was shockingly well behaved. Even Harley and Ivy were keeping it together and conversing with everyone else.

\---

**6:30 pm.**

            There was a knock on the door. Dick stood up to open it, but he heard the door open itself. A moment later, Jason dragged himself in. “Am I too late?” he grunted, seeing as most were nearly done eating.

            “Fear not, Master Todd. I saved a plate for you.” Alfred stood and went to the kitchen to get it.

            Jason sat down at the one empty space, between Harley and Clark. His eyes narrowed as he turned to face her and Ivy. “What are _you_ doing here?”

            “I invited them, Jason; don’t worry about it,” Dick said from across the table.

            Jason raised an eyebrow at him. Alfred placed a plate in front of him. “Thanks, Alfred.” He immediately began to wolf it down. “Oh, by the way, the Penguin is in Arkham again. You’re welcome,” he said between bites.

           The others stared as he finished his whole plate in under five minutes. He hiccupped a little as he finished. “That was amazing, Alfred. Thanks for the meal, everyone.” With that, he stood and started for the door.

           “Leaving so soon?” Bruce said. “Stay. Hang out for a while. Have some fun. It’s Christmas.”

           Jason turned. Everyone was smiling. Not creepy, fake smiles like he was expecting, but real, warm smiles.

           “...Fine.”

\---

Despite Bruce’s fears, this proved to be the best Christmas he’d had in a long time.

           

           

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
